


Possess You

by Razapaz



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: :) :) :), Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Manipulation, Mind Control, Twisted love, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, because Kilgrave is Kilgrave, but that's a given with Kilgrave, delusional character, forced Self-Mutilation, it's kinda graphic, oh boy, seriously, some character study
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razapaz/pseuds/Razapaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not an obsession. It's not a perverted version of love. Kilgrave <i>knows</i>, feels it in his soul, that this is something much more pure - whether Jessica wants to admit it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but I'm relatively sure that it's going to be short. I have a general idea of what I want to do, so, yeah. Some pretty disturbing stuff ahead, boys and girls. This is Kilgrave we're talking about.
> 
> Death Cab for Cutie's "I Will Possess Your Heart" and The Turtles' "So Happy Together" provided some inspiration.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilgrave will do anything for his Jessica, even if she'll likely never know about it. Well, it's the thought that counts, yeah?

"Hold your breath."

He calmly watched the man's eyes widen fractionally, before he drew in as large a breath as possible and stopped breathing. It was mildly amusing, he thought distantly, to see the subdued horror of following such a command, but being unable to disobey. As the middle-aged man started turning red, he grew bored - the allure of lording such power over, well, _everyone_ he's met lost it's thrill relatively quickly. It became normal for him. Absolutely _mundane_.

Which was why Jessica Jones was so precious to him, now.

Not to say that she _hadn't_ been before developing an immunity to his "devilish charms". He counted himself lucky to have stumbled upon such an alluring creature, both in her physical prowess and, yes, even her foolish morality. It was utterly fascinating to discover that he wasn't as unique as he thought himself to be - superhuman strength was nothing to balk at, even if it couldn't compare to his own abilities - and she fought, more strongly than anyone else, to disobey him. Although infuriating in those small moments of defiance (perhaps a brief pause, a dissenting word, the slightest of hesitations in carrying out his commands), he'd catch himself quietly admiring her strength of _mind_ , marveling at how she kept him on his toes, and cherishing the beauty of watching her submit, after realizing the futility of refusing his love.

He'd even been tempted to relinquish control once or twice, hoping that his dear Jessica would just _see_ what he saw, but he didn't dare do so prematurely. He knew it would take time to persuade her, to make her see how wonderful life could be, with him. After several months, surely, she would understand. She would _love him_.

He scoffed irritably at the memory, running a hand through his hair and ignoring the thump of a body collapsing.

He did, however, turn towards the sound of a small whimper.

The shivering sack of flesh, for Audrey Eastman was a poor excuse of a human, stared at him in trepidation. He'd barely managed to catch her and her husband, packed to the brim with luggage and just about to set off into the sunset, free from the crime they'd nearly committed. Now, however, they were subject to Kilgrave's will as he made himself comfortable in their shithole of an apartment.

"Sorry, did you say something?" He bounced to his feet, descending on the abhorrent woman with false cheer. He brought a hand up to cup his ear, side-eyeing her with malicious glee. "I couldn't quite _hear_ you, Audrey. What are you thinking? Tell me _exactly_."

"You're a monster," was the immediate response, spilling like oil from trembling red lips. "Y-You, and the rest of your kind should be culled like the beasts you are."

"I- _I'm_ the monster?" he responded with some genuine incredulity, rearing back onto his heels. He didn't understand how Jessica, his dear naive girl, could let such a vicious and disgusting thing slither away without consequence. It was a good thing he was there to clean up her messes. Honestly. "If anyone in this room's a monster, it's the one who would kill an _innocent woman_ for nothing. Come to think of it, _I_ should kill you."

"B-But, she - Jessica said - "

"Oh, _shut up_ ," Kilgrave rolled his eyes, frustration and fury catching up with him. He felt his adrenaline spiking along with his righteous anger, burning deep and hot within him, and he welcomed it like an old friend. Even if she didn't know it, if she didn't want it, he would be Jessica's avenger. On this, he wouldn't budge. "I don't give a shite what she said to you- you wanted to hurt, no, to _kill_ the woman I love. There's no escaping your punishment."

The repulsive woman whimpered once more, tears rolling down her cheeks.

He smiled, feeling a bit mollified. "Now, tell me you're sorry."

"I'm s-sorry."

"Hmm, I don't think I believe you. Say it again."

"I'm _sorry_!"

"Again."

" _I'm so sorry_!"

"That's better," he cooed vindictively, grinning as he patted her cheek. Immediately regretting the action, he grimaced and wiped his hand on her garishly orange blouse. "Unfortunately for you, I know _exactly_ what horrendous things can roll off that wicked tongue of yours. I should think you'd be better off without it," he mused thoughtfully, taking pleasure in the dawning dread swirling in her eyes. Yes, justice would be served this day.

Ordering the woman to silently remain where she was, Kilgrave ambled over to the kitchen in search of a proper tool. As he rifled through countless drawers and cabinets, his mind wandered to Jessica Jones yet again.

He knew she had the potential to love him. It was _there_ , he'd _witnessed_ it in those eighteen seconds that he'd carefully decided to relinquish control. He remembered the softness in her gaze as they bridged the gap between them, sharing a kiss so sweet and gentle that his heart ached with a fire that rivaled any lust-driven passion. It was _then_ that he realized that they belonged together - that he was absolutely _over the moon_ for this strong woman. And then Jessica had gone and cocked it up by getting skittish, climbing onto that ledge. Kilgrave had never feared for a life beside his own, until that day.

But she didn't jump.

He clung to that fact, secure in the knowledge that she had simply been frightened by the strength of their bond. _He_ certainly was, and remains so. But that was fine, he was more than willing to help Jessica accept what's happening between them, to _make_ her see - but no, he couldn't do that anymore. Her immunity to him was a blessing in disguise, to put it poetically, if slightly inconvenient. While he couldn't show her his love like before, he greatly enjoyed the challenge of this new chase. He was confident that he could win her; possess her heart and have her cherish him above all others.

Her continued refusal to stand by his side did nothing to dissuade him - it was endearing, actually. That she _could_ deny him made her all the more desirable. It was such a novelty. It was beautiful.

And it would make her inevitable, _willing_ consent all the more worthwhile.

Returning to the task at hand, Kilgrave found the perfect utensil for Mrs. Eastman. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed happily, grabbing the pair of dull scissors, half-hidden in a junk drawer. All but skipping back to the sobbing piece of shite, he said, "Catch," before tossing the thing.

Audrey scrambled to seize it, hands quivering.

"Any last words?" He sneered, utterly delighted with himself. "Come on, tell me."

"Please don't make me do this," she cried, gaining zero sympathy from him. "I-I'll do anything! Anything at all, _please_."

He pretended to think about it, imagining all the ways he could make her suffer. "Would you kill your husband? Tell the truth, now."

"Yes, _yes_!"

"Wow, _no_ hesitation. How cold-blooded," he nodded to her, ticking his head to the side in consideration. He found that he was quite finished with her. "And you say _I'm_ the monster. Cut out your tongue."

It was with detached curiosity that he noted how her high-pitched wails reached a new octave as she began snipping, hunching in on herself, and he neatly side-stepped a spray of blood as she worked to complete her task. There was more gore than he thought there'd be but, then again, this was the first time he'd ordered such a thing. He wasn't in the habit of sticking around to observe the results of his will, usually, when it came to mutilation or murder - mostly because he tended to be in a hurry. Thankfully, that didn't apply here, so he could satiate his need for retribution.

The bitch didn't relent in her wild, pathetic shrieks, even after her tongue uselessly slipped out of her mouth and flopped to the ground, a gush of blood gruesomely following in it's wake. Immediately dropping the soaked scissors, she released a blood-curdling scream at the sight, eyes bright and wide as she stared and stared between her stained, trembling hands and the amputated organ.

"Shut up," he told her, crossly, and was given reprieve from her shrill voice. He sighed, rubbing his temples as the woman sunk to her knees, which drew an exasperated scoff from him. "Oh, pull yourself together! At least you're not dead," he spat at her, thoroughly disgusted. It was about time to make his leave, but first... "You know, I've been very lenient with you, Audrey. You should _thank_ me for my mercy. Go on. Tell me how _thankful_ you are."

The woman croaked out indistinguishable sounds, sporadically hiccuping from the force of her sniveling.

He felt like laughing.

Instead, he grabbed his coat from the back of a once-pristine chair, now speckled with red, ready to move on with his plans to possess Jessica Jones in every way. Tugging the coat on, he made his way towards the door and shouted over his shoulder, "Take those scissors and disembowel your husband!"

The last thing he heard, before slamming the door, was a choked gurgle.


	2. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilgrave waits for his precious Jessica vigilantly, thinking of things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much dialogue here, just some more introspective stuff.

The house was perfect.

He'd personally overseen the entire process, constantly referring to original photographs as he studied every inch, and spent obscene amounts of money to track down and acquire genuine articles (authenticity was important). His employees did an exceptional job, for once, after he'd properly motivated them - because if they didn't have an eye for detail, then they didn't leave with their eyes. He wouldn't accept anything less than _perfect_ for the love of his life.

It would be worth it. Once Jessica arrived, she would finally acknowledge his hard efforts and praise the depth of his worship once she saw _this_ \- this emulation of her youth.

He imagined how demure she would be for him, soft touches and silky sighs, an unspoken apology for being so unreasonably stubborn. Jessica would relent her campaign of defiance and open her eyes to reality; to finally distinguishing that fine line between love and hate, to finally _understanding_. She would ruefully return to his side with those tragic brown eyes asking, no, _begging_ for his forgiveness. He dreamt of that moment often - picturing how lovely her embarrassment would color the canvas of her flawless skin - a true, unrestricted beauty in a world of banal puppets. Puppets that, unbelievably, would _dare_ to bloody ruin her with their unworthy declarations of 'love'.

Just the thought, the ugly reminder, of Banana Bread Boy's _audacity_ was enough to get him ruffled. The simpleton wasn't even a worthy rival; he couldn't have given her a _tenth_ of the things Kilgrave could offer. Even so, it would do well to show Jessica that he wouldn't tolerate even the most inferior of would-be suitors. She belonged to him. He _earned_ it.

Well, at least the whole fiasco finally gave him an opportunity to clear things up with his love - to think, she didn't know about his intentions! The accusations she'd made...

"Torture," he scoffed, brushing aside the curtain to peer outside. "My foolish girl."

Regardless, it was yet another fault of Jessica's that he was willing to overlook - just as he'd overlooked her attempted kidnapping. Under _any_ other circumstance such an offense would have resulted in the perpetrator's prolonged and painful suicide, however it truly was impressive just how close Jessica had come to collaring him. She'd failed, of course, but the effort alone paved the way for some interesting consequences. Call him an old sap, but his stomach clenched and his breath was stolen whenever his phone vibrated at 10:00 a.m. - the yearning that burned within him was appeased, if only momentarily, at the mere sight of her sarcastic smile.

He did so now, even, glancing down and drawing his mobile from his pocket. A few taps was all it took for him to conjure several images of her, tenderness consuming him as wholly as an eclipse embraced the sun. He leisurely admired the deceptive grace and beauty she possessed, concealing the preciously deadly pearl that was her superhuman strength. If ever there were a person who could turn him into a poet, it would be _this_ lovely creature.

"Sir?"

Pocketing his mobile and pulling away from the window, Kilgrave whirled to face one of the security men he'd hired, temper flaring. " _What_? This had better be important, Hank."

The man swallowed nervously, shifting about. "We have confirmation that Miss Jones is en route, sir."

Kilgrave could have sworn his heart missed a beat, anticipation clawing at him, and he couldn't stop the daft smile that stretched across his face. "Oh, excellent! Do we have someone tailing her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good," Kilgrave nodded, satisfied. "Alert me _immediately_ if anything comes up."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, go wait in the corner."

The tense bodyguard left without another word.

And then there was nothing to do, except eagerly await his beloved's arrival. Returning to the window, Kilgrave leaned against the frame and settled to watch his dreams finally, _finally_ come to fruition.

He knew that there were bound to be issues, what with Jessica having such a skewed perception of him, but that was something he could rectify. Even so, _predictably_ so, defiance was a given. He wasn't deluded enough to think that Jessica wouldn't try something, so it was in their best interest that he derail anything which might impede their time together. The solution? Living fail-safes in the form of his serving staff.

Oh, she might be vexed with him for a time for that, but that was to be expected, considering her 'hero' mentality. Nevertheless, they wouldn't come to harm so long as Jessica gave their budding relationship a chance. Love was a game of give and take, after all, and Kilgrave was more than willing to give her the world, should she ask for it. Unfortunately, right from the start, his beloved had the _dreadful_ habit of taking advantage of his love for her own selfish purposes. That may take some time to resolve.

And _that_ may take longer than he'd like.

Patience was never his strong suit; he preferred immediate results. A downside to having his wishes immediately carried out, to be sure, but even this unfamiliar experience of _waiting_ for someone he wanted was exhilarating, in it's own way - a _challenge_. And after presenting her with such a grand display of his devotion and affection, he imagined that he wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Speaking of waiting...

Kilgrave perked up as he saw a cab appear from the end of the road, making it's way toward the house. His eyes greedily drunk in the sight, a triumphant grin curling around the edges of his mouth.

This was it.

"Together, at last," he laughed breathlessly, feeling more emotional than ever before.

He didn't wait to watch her disembark the cab. With an untamed fervor, Kilgrave briskly walked through the living room to the side door, briefly pausing for some last minute checks - running a hand through his hair, glancing at his shirt for any wrinkles or stains or lint, making sure he was _presentable_ -

Kilgrave stepped out just in time to see Jessica emerge onto the driveway.

She looked _ghastly_.

He never understood why she insisted on dressing in such drab, unflattering rags, but that didn't matter. She could learn to make concessions, just as he was willing to do for her. Anything, if it meant winning her heart.

Kilgrave sighed, exasperated yet fond, as he stared into her burning gaze. He could already see the objections lying in wait there; the contempt that defined the hard line of her mouth, slightly down-turned; the determined furrow in her brow, promising betrayal and unyielding justification for it; the tight clench of her fists, restraining her delicious power and submitting herself to him; the glimmer of defeat in her red-rimmed eyes, belied by the scorching condemnation of imagined wrong-doings. Beautiful.

He extended a hand and watched, utterly delighted, as she accepted the silent invitation.

They didn't speak. No words necessary.

Such was the strength of their bond - he knew she had ulterior motives for coming, just as she knew that he did this out of love, but that was alright. It didn't matter that she wanted to apprehend him out of some misguided sense of duty or lingering heroism. All that mattered was that she so obviously cared to be involved with him, at _any_ capacity. She was _fixated_ on him.

That was enough. For now.


	3. AKA SWOT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica wants to make things right, and makes a decision. But one small difference changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the _atrocious_ delay. But I do hope everyone enjoyed their holidays, as well as the New Year! 
> 
> Would you believe, I find Jessica's perspective much harder to write than Kilgrave's?

Sometimes, sacrifice can demand more than you can survive. It takes chunks of you, piece by shitty piece, 'til there's nothing left but shame and regret. Funny how most people don't realize that until they've already been screwed over.

.

.

.

Jessica Jones wasn't a martyr.

It was one of those unspoken qualities that put the 'hero' in 'superhero' and guaranteed you a spot on the cover of cereal boxes (hello there, Captain America). It was a willingness to take one for the team so that everyone else could reap the benefits and live happily the fuck ever after, forever ignorant to the poor dumb-ass who thought they could make a difference. Yeah, she wasn't selfless enough to do something like that for a bunch of faceless strangers - she'd leave all that responsibility in the hold of people less likely to crush it with their bare hands.

It was probably a blessing in disguise that her 'hero' phase ended before it could even begin.

Whatever. It was one less problem she had to worry about, which still left a shit-ton of issues that she couldn't drown in booze. Namely, the smarmy madman who was alarmingly obsessed with _her_ of all people, and the apparent power she suddenly held over him.

With all her considerable strength, Jessica knew this wasn't a problem she could just strong-arm in her favor like she did whenever paying customers got a little too clingy with their wallets. It was a potentially world-changing decision, basically making or breaking an honest-to-God super-villain, and having that kind of responsibility dumped onto her irresponsible shoulders made her want to curl up into a bottle of, hell, _anything_ with alcohol at this point.

Because this? This was _fucking_ insane and Jessica was the _least_ equipped person to handle it.

If she broke it down, her strengths included actual super-strength, above-average investigative skills, and a set of decent morals; and her weaknesses could span the length of a football field - not including the fact that Kilgrave could make her his puppet, if he felt like it. He was the only real threat she'd ever come across since discovering her powers, if only for the fact that her power meant shit if she couldn't use it against him. One word could render her useless.

 _That_ was the crux of her hesitance to be the psychopath's glorified handler.

Then again, Kilgrave had just handed her the perfect opportunity to take him down. He was deliberately _not_ using his abilities against her, in some weird, demented attempt to get her to trust him - but how long would that last? How long would it take until he got tired of her resistance - because Jessica would never stop fighting him - and finally just take what he wanted? That's what he'd done his whole life, right? Fat chance of changing that _now_ , even if she tried.

She knew what Trish would do, if they could switch places, but Jessica didn't have the same kind of noble heart that her best friend did - call her a coward, but she didn't want to live under the constant threat of being stripped of her free will, _never_ again. To voluntarily put herself in a situation like that... well, it'd give her therapist a few things to think about, that's for damn sure. Not to mention, she would _never_ trust Kilgrave enough to be responsible with his powers, guidance or not, and she could _never_ forget how many people's lives he'd ruined. People like Hope Schlottman.

Her decision was made.

There was no way in hell she would let Kilgrave off so easily after mind-fucking so many innocent people, _children_ included - he needed to pay for what he'd done. Actions had consequences - a lesson that he'd apparently never learned and she'd be _more_ than happy to teach him. And if doing so meant she'd get her own little scoop of justice, well, then that was just the cherry on top, wasn't it?

It was a simple thing to get the necessary materials, cheap too, and she found a cover for her time away in a hole-in-the-wall Chinese place, a few blocks away from Trish's place. Grudgingly placing an order for some of Kilgrave's favorite dishes, frustrated and ashamed to admit that she actually _remembered_ little details like that, she wanted to make sure that the paranoid bastard was as unsuspecting of her ulterior motives as she could get him. This plan would be tricky enough to carry out as it was.

The cab drive back to Barbie's Nightmare House was a tense one as she fiddled with the takeout boxes, carefully taking note of which ones she'd laced. It wouldn't take long for the sedative to kick in, so she'd have to act fast before Kilgrave could order her to stop what she was doing. Shuddering at the thought, Jessica quickly decided not to think about the possibility of _that_ outcome.

In no time at all, she was back at the ruined memory of her childhood home, setting up dinner like a regular Suzy Homemaker, and making small talk with the starring character of her nightmares. She felt like gagging.

Time to get this over with.

Sitting down and trying to seem casual, Jessica mentally drew herself up. She'd made her choice. No turning back now.

"You were right." Jesus, just saying those words made her skin crawl, and the way his eyes lit up made her want to puke. If she did, she'd aim for his ridiculous shoes. _Anything_ to get rid of the slimy, smug tilt of his mouth.

"About what?"

"Maybe about you and me. Maybe we can balance the scales a bit."

As the bullshit conversation continued, with the addition of Laurent and Alva, she nearly snorted at the fucked up pseudo-family dinner they were having. It didn't help that Kilgrave's growing look of quiet awe actually roused a shard of pity from her; it was a disturbing reminder that this psychopath really was desperate enough to take anything she was supposedly willing to give. ' _Well, cry me a river, motherfucker_ ,' Jessica fiercely thought to herself, just waiting for the right moment. ' _I won't let you hurt anyone else. I'm making this_ right.'

Once she'd finally, _finally_ gotten Kilgrave to take a bite of food and drop his guard, she was seconds away from making her move, when -

"Jessica, dear, pass me some soy sauce, hmm?"

Lip curling in disgust, her muscles were already moving to comply before she'd even registered what he said, instead immediately focusing on that _awful_ endearment. "No, you don't get to call me pet names, asshole -" abruptly cutting herself off, Jessica's brain caught up with the situation. Kilgrave had just given her an _order_ , however veiled it was, but - blinking down at the packets of soy sauce in her hand, and feeling _no compulsion_ to hand them over, Jessica felt like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room.

She didn't _want_ to pass the damn soy sauce.

So she didn't.

 _Didn't obey his demand_.

No, it couldn't be possible. Could it?

"Jessica?"

Snapping her gaze up to meet with Kilgrave's wary expression, she could see the truth in his eyes. That _fucking weasel_. He _knew_.

Several packets of sauce ruptured in an iron grip.

Then Laurent and Alva collapsed.

"What -" momentarily startled, Kilgrave moved to stand, confusion and alarm written all over his face, before realization seemed to settle in. Her plan was blown, there was no salvaging it now, but she could really, _really_ care less about it in comparison to the bombshell that was dropped on her. She ignored the pathetic look of disappointment he threw her way, too focused on the boiling fury that threatened to erupt. "Oh, Jessica."

Fuck that. "How long have you known?"

"You know, if you wanted us to be alone, you simply could've _asked_ ," his tone was light and playful, but the clench of his jaw and the downwards tick of his brow revealed his distress. Under any other circumstance, the sight alone would have made her laugh.

" _Answer the goddamn question_."

Kilgrave sighed, frowning petulantly. "I really thought..."

Jessica slammed her hand down on the table, cracking the surface and rattling the whole damn thing. She was losing patience. " _Goddamn_ it, _tell_ me!"

Wincing at the mess - _what a fucking diva_ \- the creep had the gall to glare at her. "Since the crash. _There_ , happy? It took you long enough to figure it out."

"Fuck you," she hissed, relishing in the resentment her crass response drew out of him. "This whole time, you made me _think_ -"

" _Yes_ , I _did_ ," Kilgrave snapped harshly, eyes bright as he sprung to his feet. Jessica matched him, no longer worried about falling under his control, and stood strong to face him as he flew into another rant. "I lied by omission, let you think my influence still affected you, because that's _all I had left_. Tell me, would you have so readily come here, willing to work with me, if you knew you could so easily overpower me? Knock me down with a _flick_ of your finger? Not even my 'fail-safe' could have saved me then, just as it can't save me now."

Kilgrave's voice quieted as he neared the end, deflating and looking more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him before.

He looked _scared_.

Unwanted, a small well of guilt rose up within her, but Jessica ruthlessly shoved it down to _focus_. This monster wasn't above manipulating her - she wouldn't put it past him to act the part of 'victim' to appeal to her morality, like the shifty douche-bag he was. Nothing could stop her now. She smiled. "Tough shit, Kilgrave. You're going away for a _long_ time to pay for everything you've done."

An indescribable expression twisted his features. He looked away. "Fine. If it makes you happy."


	4. The Things We Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilgrave is disillusioned about just how much work needs to be done to bridge the gap between him and his lady love. He'd always left the hard work to others, but Jessica demands more of him than he's ever had to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for basically dropping off the face of the Earth, but I can't promise it won't happen again - for that I sincerely apologize. However, I do promise to never give up on this story until it's finished. Hopefully you all will be patient with me until then. That aside, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Tough shit, Kilgrave. You're going away for a _long_ time to pay for everything you've done."

He knew, he _knew_ , that Jessica would try something - the recorder was to be expected, of course, as well as her futile belligerence - but this was beyond what he thought her capable of. Such callous treachery...

If he could put a name to the lurch in his chest, to that pesky feeling that felt worse than being hit by a bus, Kilgrave would say it was heartbreak.

Staring into the eyes of his beloved, he could see nothing of the woman he'd briefly shared a blissful home with. She disappeared the moment Jessica intended to betray him in the worst way possible - abusing his trust to render him vulnerable _again_ \- and he wasn't sure it was a trespass he could so easily dismiss. He could feel the churn of fury urging him to punish her, to _show_ her just how much she hurt him, but he knew it would be wasted. She wasn't ready, he could see that now, so she wouldn't understand. She'd see his heartbreak and call it a monstrosity, and Kilgrave wasn't stupid or masochistic enough to try to show her, yet.

But he'd also refuse to play the proverbial doormat in this relationship, that is, if they could survive her hideous transgression in this courtship. If only she would stop being so stubborn, long enough so he could _make_ her see -

Kilgrave stopped himself from following that line of thinking down the rabbit hole, knowing it would be pointless. He couldn't make Jessica do anything now, a thought that frustrated as much as it titillated him, though it was difficult to remember presently.

He'd have to go about this far less gently than he had anticipated.

"Fine. If it makes you happy."

The lie slipped off his tongue easily, almost as easily as his commands, but it still stung his pride. Making concessions was something he'd never bothered with, for obvious reasons, but he'd been making more and more of them since his decision to pursue Jessica. It was mind-boggling, how much effort people put into negotiating what they want out of others, and Kilgrave found he simply didn't have the patience for it. But, as with nearly everything, Jessica was the exception. For her, he'd make as many grand gestures - manufactured, in this case, or truly genuine - to prove the depths of his devotion to her.

The seconds ticked by after his faux surrender, and he watched with some curiosity as Jessica's eyes narrowed suspiciously, her smile fading. Bittersweet fondness tainted the lovely example of her beauty and intelligence.

"Bullshit. You're just going to roll over? Just like _that_?" she snapped her fingers here, the sound making him bristle.

Though he was mildly impressed that she immediately saw through his ploy, given that she was slow to see other blatant truths, Kilgrave still found himself irritated that she wouldn't believe him, wouldn't even accept the _possibility_. For all his efforts, she was quick to judge and refused to trust anything he said. It was just another obstacle he'd have to overcome, and he fumed at the thought that he may as well have done _nothing_ this whole time - she was further out of his reach than when they first met.

Throwing his hands up in the air, exasperated, he harshly retorted, "There's just _no_ pleasing you, is there? Here I am, prepared to do what you want, and _still_ -"

"Yeah," she cut in darkly, stepping closer, and, despite himself, a shot of arousal blazed through his anger. "Because I'm not an idiot."

They stood less than a foot apart, the air charged with tension, and Kilgrave couldn't stop himself from remembering the last time they were this close. Allowing his gaze to trail down her body, he looked past her questionable choice in attire, remembered her bare, sweaty skin free for him to explore and touch - memories of their happiest times together came rushing back, he could almost feel the brush of her hand pulling him to her, guiding, urging, _squeezing_ -

"My eyes are up here, asshole."

Coming back to the present and breathing a bit heavier, Kilgrave only had enough time to see Jessica's signature sneer before it was replaced with her fist.

He cried out as pain exploded out from his nose, blood dripping past his lips as he hunched in on himself, and instinctively cradled his face while he spat out muffled obscenities. " _Jesus, fuck_ , _Jessica_ -" he paused, taking deep breaths from his mouth, trying to calm his racing heart from the sudden adrenaline rush. After the sharpness of the initial hit faded to an uncomfortable, dull throb, Kilgrave finally straightened up with a grimace.

Jessica was still glaring at him, but her eyes spoke of a violence satisfied.

"You should've given it your best shot," he snarked, hating how nasally he sounded. Wincing as he cautiously poked around his nose, he knew the damage could've been much worse if Jessica had used her full strength. A spark of hope bloomed in his belly, fluttering, when he realized that she held back. For _him_. Of course, that little fact didn't change how upset he was, but it was something he could actually work with. The makings of a plan beginning to form, he smiled more viciously than he knew, continuing, "You could end it all, right now - be the hero all your friends want you to be and rid the world of a _monster_ ," he scoffed the word, voice gaining a darker edge. "Why won't you, hmm? Why don't you just kill me now?"

"You know I won't," she hissed, her voice wavering deliciously. "I'm not a murderer. I'm not like _you_."

"Oh, don't try and play innocent with _me_ ," Kilgrave snapped at the hypocrisy, feeling his bubbling anger crest and spill over. His power sizzled uselessly on his tongue - desperate to influence, persuade, _command_ \- and his words cracked out like a whip. "Not when you pushed that woman -"

" _Because of you!_ " she screeched, shoving him with enough force that he stumbled backwards against the table. Jessica followed quickly, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, shaking him and all but snarling, "You _made_ me do those things. You _made_ me -"

"Did I?" Kilgrave interrupted, tone deceptively mild as he clutched the edges of the table behind him. He nearly had her. "Did I tell you to 'kill' her? Did I tell you to use your power?"

"Don't give me that bullshit -"

"You already had it in you," Kilgrave interrupted heatedly. He knew it wasn't kind but it was something his beloved girl needed to hear. She was so bloody stubborn that it needed to be spelled out for her, and the sooner she saw the truth, the sooner they could finally be together. "So ready to punch and push and break things at your own convenience, aren't you?"

There, a flicker of uncertainty. She released him roughly, backing away. "No. No, you're wrong."

"Are you sure about that?" his smile darkened, and he gestured to his unconscious serving staff with a raised brow. "I think Laurent and Alva would disagree."

It was the wrong thing to say.

"I did that to _protect_ them from you," Jessica lifted her chin, and he could see her doubt give way to accusation. Damn, he'd been so close... "They're safe as long as they're out of your reach. Everyone is."

"They would've been safe anyway," he muttered, disappointed. "So long as you listened and actually gave me a chance -"

"You don't deserve one -"

"And just _what_ do I deserve, hmm?"

Jessica's lips thinned as she seriously considered his question, her fists tightly clenched, and, in that moment, he wondered what she thought of him. What did she see in him that was so horrible, so unforgivable, that she was unwilling to be the least bit sympathetic? He knew she cared, that much was evident in her efforts to show him his wrongdoings, so it wasn't that. What could push her to such extremes -

"It's not about you," Jessica said suddenly, slowly, as if just coming to a realization. "It's not about what _you_ deserve."

Kilgrave felt his face screw up in confusion. "What?"

"Your victims, they deserve justice," her expression hardened, clearly having made a decision, and his heart sunk. " _We_ deserve justice."

Panic bloomed like fire in his chest as she stepped towards him, her intent loud and oh-so tragically clear. Why couldn't she understand, why couldn't she see, why couldn't she _accept him_ -

"Jessica," he implored. "Jessica, please -"

"It's over, Kilgrave."

And as her fist came towards his face for the second time, he really believed it.


	5. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilgrave comes to a hard truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are still with me, 'cause I re-discovered my love for this fic and stayed up till 6 am editing this tiny chapter. (ง ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)ง

He was seething.

There was a pressure coiling in his chest, an aching tightness he thought might be heartbreak, and a tremble in his hands that he refused to call fear. He didn't think Jessica would stoop to such dramatics to - to  _what_? To prove a point? To punish him for hurting her  _feelings_? Who did she think she was, to betray him so completely - to disregard everything they've been through? Did she even stop to think how her own actions would make  _him_  feel?

"You hypocrite," he hissed, glaring past the glass of his prison to where she sat, watching him. He knew she wouldn't hear him - she all but bragged about the soundproofing with a cheeky grin before switching the intercom off - but it felt good to say. He would shout it. " _Hypocrite!_ "

Jessica simply smiled.

Feeling his anger spark anew, Kilgrave stepped up to the glass and started banging on the surface. Raw emotion poured out of him in unintelligible screams until his throat went hoarse, until his arms trembled from the strain, until his hands were tender from the relentless abuse, even until his power was  _searing_  along his tongue without purpose. But he didn't care. All he could think was how easily he allowed himself to fall to such lows, how all his carefully laid plans were laid to  _waste_  by the very woman he crafted them for, and it ripped him to the core that he could have misplaced his love and trust so foolishly. Looking at her now, the way she smiled at him in his suffering, Kilgrave could only pound at the image of her and wallow in the shallow relief that she hadn't killed him yet.

It was the single, infinitesimal thing that kept his hope from shriveling to dust. It was the only thing he clung to since he'd awakened in his very own personalized prison. He knew there was something in her that recognized him, the  _real_  him, from their brief time together. He knew it was there, he'd seen it many times since she'd been out of his influence. Subtle things, small and thoughtless, but there all the same.

The way her lip would twitch whenever he was being clever, how her eyes would linger and set his skin aflame with remembered desire, or how she tried so very hard to hide the compassion she felt when he revealed his childhood to her. He held those precious things close to his heart even as he raged and  _raged_  and  ** _raged_**  -

But where was that compassion now? How could she have done this to him, knowing what she did about the cruel experiments his piss-poor excuse for parents conducted on him? How could she?  _How could she do this_?

Jessica wasn't even looking at him anymore, fingers tapping away on her phone.

"I trusted you!" Kilgrave screamed, banging on the glass with each word. She didn't look up.

Feeling suddenly drained, Kilgrave slumped against the glass, using his forearms to brace himself. Staring straight at Jessica and feeling his chest  _ache_ , he despaired at how they could ever return to what they'd been.

Then the blonde woman walked in. A skip to her step.

A slow, churning sort of horror roiled his insides when she glanced to him, her thin lips forming an insidious grin. Paired with knowing, gloating eyes, she turned away to face his love and he just  _knew_. Knew with all his heart and soul that this woman was behind everything.  _She_  was the reason Jessica thought to betray him, to cage him, to lock him away and forget, because _his_  Jessica,  _his lovely girl_ , would never have done so. Not without outside influence. Not without  _her_ influence.

Even now, the blonde bitch was talking to Jessica, no doubt filling her impressionable head with more lies about him.

Well.

Kilgrave stepped away from the glass slowly, instincts screaming against the minor retreat, and there was nothing for it. With Jessica compromised as she was, all his efforts thus far had been rendered void thanks to  _that meddling bitch,_ but this was something he could forgive of his ladylove. Because it  _wasn't_  Jessica. It was someone using, no, turning her against him. Brainwashing her into thinking he was some kind of monster. Twisting her love into hate.

For that, he won't show a shred of mercy to the audacious blonde who thought she could nick his still-beating heart from his chest.

Now, because of that nuisance, he'd have to start over and court Jessica even  _more_  gently. It was unbearably frustrating to have to make Jessica fall back in love with him, for the  _third_  time, but Kilgrave was confident in his abilities. She was made for him; it was only a matter of time before she came to realize that. The only thing he couldn't account for was that blonde-haired slag sinking her dirty claws into his Jessica again - he wouldn't tolerate anything getting between him and his dear girl - and he could already think of so many satisfying ways to get rid of her. That is, if she didn't convince the love of his life to kill him, first. It was a chilling thought.

Glancing back to them, he saw that they were watching him with an uncomfortable intensity.

Almost unconsciously, Kilgrave felt his spine straighten and his glare deepen. He refused to be cowed by  _anyone_. He forced himself not to look at his dear Jessica, knowing now that he wouldn't find what he was looking for, and instead locked eyes with the blonde. He made sure to smile his most blood-thirsty grin - one that promised a fiery retribution - and reveled in the visceral flinch it bore.

"That's barely a  _taste_  of what I'll do to you," he snarled, face twisting into something dark and vengeful. Gaze darting between them, the blonde's apprehension was a laughable comparison to the amused exasperation gracing Jessica's stunning features, and it was like a breath of fresh air to a suffocating man. It seemed some parts of her, the  _real_  her, were still there. Waiting for him.

Kilgrave could feel his expression softening to something more solemn and gentle as they continued staring at each other like they were the only ones in the world. He absorbed as much of Jessica as he could, wordlessly trying to convey everything he felt, before even more parts of her were lost to the  _fucking blonde_  she'd foolishly placed her trust in. Before she was too far gone to bring back. Before it was too late.

" _Wait for me_ ," he murmured softly, the words barely a whisper on his lips. " _Be strong, love._ "

Jessica's brow furrowed before she sighed and got to her feet, briefly exchanging a word with the blonde. They quickly gathered their things, obviously preparing to leave, and it was all he could do not to start banging on the glass again. As they walked toward the exit, Jessica peeked over her shoulder to look back at him. It was pathetic how much he clung to that point of contact, how much he savored and cherished it.

Then she turned away and walked out.

He felt a part of himself go with her.


End file.
